Trash: Chapter 119 Unexpectedly Expected (Patreon)

Chapter 119

Unexpectedly Expected

One should never take for granted the fact that they are now in a world saturated by magic. Even if access to that magic is seemingly restricted at first. As if there are levels and different types of training wheels that need to be broken off before access is fully granted. The first component is baseline abilities, but even these are limited first by the knowledge of the user, and secondly by the Skills that the users eventually become aware of. From there, Skills are further shaved down to affinity, which are also modified by knowledge and capabilities, leading one to forget that this is magic, and in its raw and untapped form it can be dangerous.

Heck, even in its shaped form, there are magical Skills that are capable of taking down monsters, an example of this are Madame Voyou and Mr. Yi’s powerful but yet vastly different capabilities due to their affinities tied to their Skills, and their knowledge on how to apply those Skills to a particular scenario.

One could say that up until this point in my life, I have had a relatively sheltered experience, when it comes to magic. While I have been exposed to Magical Skills, in both my Bloodline Skills, and my own Personal Skills, they were ultimately beneficial. The DiVoratore bloodline Skills allowed me to first see the spiritual realm and then defend myself from that very realm. Likewise, my Trash Skill allowed me to destroy evidence, present a respectable appearance, all while presenting a relatively safe outcome. Even my recent foray into dissolving the outer layer of Shadow Stones, to destroy the gooey inner layer with my Seal infused curb stomping method has been relatively safe and effective.

That is why I had likely missed the warning signs. Looking back, it is easy to see how my knowledge of this world has been seemingly influenced by the fact that the world has fail-safes in place to prevent us from hurting ourselves, or doing too much too quickly, before we are ready. That is why I didn’t even think of the Danger associated with what I was doing. My mind didn’t even think that there could be an issue when combining the energy used in half a sigil’s worth of holy energy channeled through my seal and combining that energy with my Trash Skill. A Skill that has been enhanced with abundant life energy thanks to my unique Class of Culmen Vitae*. A class that insists on soaking everything in Healing energy, which is a more refined type of Life energy. The end result was exactly as one would expect when combining two different sources of energy together for the first time.

Basically, the unexpected happened.

A flash of greenish-golden light erupted as my life infused Trash Skill met with my partially infused sigil of power. That flash of light was so bright that it felt like I was watching a nuclear reaction happen right in my hands. Like a fool, all I did was turn my head away to avoid the burst of light, not dropping the stone, not trying to protect myself. Heck, I didn’t even turn off the flow of energy or attempt to stop the reaction that was occurring. Just like forgetting that a water faucet was on, I just let the energy of my Trash Skill pour into the sigil, continuing the process that was now occurring with the stone in my hand.

It only took four more seconds for the stone to become white hot, like touching a burning stone. That was when my mind reacted on instinct and quickly shook and dropped the stone that clattered on the cobblestone road. That was it, six seconds, at most of direct infusion of power, but what occurred next was something I would never forget.

First, my hand ached, and required an application of Streamline Healing*, complete with me holding my own injured hand to address the burning pain that was flaring up in my left hand.

With the pain gone, and the glowing intensity of the stone finally abating, I turned back to see something that I didn’t quite expect. A completely dead stone. The miasma that is present in all of the living stones was gone, well not gone exactly but burnt away, seemingly used as an accelerant that burned all the gooey inner shadow slime to a crispy husk.

Seeing the stone on the ground, and remembering the pain it caused, I did what anyone would do in my place. I kicked the stone gently with my shoe, moving the shoe away just in case it decided to burn its way through the sole of my shoe. Fortunately, it apparently cooled quickly, as nothing happened. Well, a silhouette of the burnt stone appeared from where I moved the stone, providing a perfect shadow of where the stone had fallen and burned on the cobblestone road. Followed by a trail of rising smoke that smelled of sulfur and other substances that should not be burned together.

Once I was relatively certain that the shadow stone was no longer glowing, a fact that was confirmed by the fact that the trail of smoke was no longer rising from it, I tentatively reached down and touched the stone.

“WAHH!” Markan exclaimed statedly.

Jumping back, I paused and looked at him, only to see that he was smirking wildly at the fact that he got me to jump at his cry of pain.

“Hehehe, sorry, I couldn’t resist,” he exclaimed as he had to quickly readjust his own grip on the jar of expensively rare paint. After a second of holding out his hands like he had somehow caught a priceless Fabergé egg from cracking on the ground, he stopped laughing at his own antics.

“That was karma,” I reply, before reaching down and grabbing the stone. Looking at it, I see that this one looks exactly like the one that was dead. The one that didn’t react with the violent psychic scream at my removal of its outer layer.

Holding it up and inspecting it, I could see that the ink for the partially applied sigil was missing, replaced with a burnt indentation of the same shape.

“Oh, that’s cool,” Markan uttered, peering at the stone from over my shoulder.

Feeling him hovering over me, I am about to pull away, but I hear the words of Madame Bloom come from in front of me. As if she seemingly appeared from out of nowhere, “let me see it.”

Without even a moment of hesitation, I provide the burnt stone to her, and she even reaches her finger into the burnt stone to cause part of it to flake away, the way that only items burnt to ash can. Removing her char smoke covered finger, she stares and seems to inspect the stone for a moment. A faint scent of sulfur once again was released into the air, causing a mild burning sensation in my nose. Seeing that it had been a success, she nods in satisfaction, before giving me the six words that fill me with instant pride and regret.

“Good work, now do it again.”

Hearing those words I let out a sigh, but I also know she is correct. Looking up, I can see that the sun is close to setting, meaning that these stones will be all the harder to find once they are no longer glowing with the aid of the setting sun.

Going to the next nearest one, a stone that is hidden under the overhang of a hair salon, I reach up but find the spot just out of reach. Seeing my struggle, Markan is there to instantly grab me at my sides and lift me up, like I am some cheerleader reaching for new heights. By this point I don’t even struggle, knowing he wants this to be over just as quickly as I do. That is why we both just work in tandem; I reach up to the overhang and grab the stuck stone that glows in an odd and eerie way to my eyes, and he lets me down once I lower my arms, a sign that my task is done. From there he reaches behind himself, picks up the paint jar and brush, gets a nice dollop out, and presents the brush to me handle first.

I nod, and clearing my mind, I focus on the design and most importantly, I try to replicate my earlier success. Once again, there is a slight issue, as my mind can’t seem to find a way to force the energy to flow through my right hand in any meaningful way. Still, I push and focus on the feeling of fire coursing through me.  

This time, the paint spreads evenly, but my energy only comes out in short bursts. Not the full release of energy I am used to, but a partial bit that seems to mirror my already near exhausted state. Still, I look it I can see a faint glow and realize I might want to at least try to see if what happened before will happen again. I think about using my Trash Skill to remove the outer layer and at the very least go with the tried and true shadow stomping method, but this time, I get an odd idea flicker into my mind. An idea that basically states, that what if it wasn’t Trash that caused the reaction. Or obviously it did, but what if it was the healing energy aspect that truly caused the last reaction.

My mind goes to the idea that logically the unique marking next to my Personal Skill indicates that no one else has had the Trash Skill before. Therefor a cabal of healers passing around a glowing sigil based on my Skill wouldn’t make sense. Also, I believe the green in the earlier greenish-golden burst of light had to be the Healing energy activating something in the sigil and the paint that caused the white-hot process to unfold. With that thought in mind, I momentarily switch Skills, knowing that it would be too easy to switch back to my Trash Skill, but I want to see if the green spark was due to the Healing affinity applied.

That was why, without warning and without even consulting Madame Bloom who was next to me, and right there ready to provide assistance or guidance, I acted on my own, applying Streamline Healing* energy directly to the sigil.

What happened next was almost an exact repeat of the first time. There was a burst of light, an eruption of energy, and I instinctively dropped the stone. However, this time, things were different. There was no scorch mark on the ground where the stone fell, no ash or burning trails of smoke that wafted up and burned the lungs. No this time, the stone was perfectly in tact, no breaking away of the outer layer, and everything once again appeared dead inside.

Madame Bloom was the first to pick up the dropped stone, almost instantly, even as the stone seemed to glow with a faint trace of light as the last vestiges of energy burned out from within. Like watching a fire slowly die, as the last embers finally wink out of existence. It was both beautiful and oddly sad when it was complete.

Once again, Madame Bloom provided the six same words of encouragement and despair, but this time they weren’t as exhausting as they were just a moment ago.

“Good work, now do it again.”

I nodded, and began going to the last ground level one before calling out, “have them prepare a ladder.”

“We already have one, it’s on the underside of the carriage,” Madame Bloom noted.

Hearing that, I turned to Markan who spoke of us specifically asking for one earlier. Looking at him, he just shrugged and gave a faint smile, then spoke in an overly false tone, “oh, yes. That one completely slipped my mind.”

I looked at him, and was about to say something, but realize he had been finding ways to give me more time to relax. But that was before all of this. Thinking on it now, I realized he was doing all he could to help me, a fact that was now causing me to reevaluate my initial impression of him as well.

***

(Anastasia Bloom)

Anastasia watched as her apprentice took charge. The entire afternoon had been somewhat surreal. All day, Anastasia had been on edge, at first she thought it was for the fact that she needed to look out for Lucia and Luna, but that was only part of the equation.

What she saw now, what Prince Fiammata now realized about her Apprentice was too much to hide. Fortunately, there was still an out, where Catarine could take her place on an exceptional contract. One that Anastasia herself would have loved to have had offered to her, had she known more about the world when she was younger. Now though, now it would just push her to an early grave.

Though, given the amount of stress that her young Apprentice was now putting on her might do the exact same job. She had somehow solved a mystery that had plagued scientists for years, namely how do spirit rifts form.

There have been signs, gradual erosion, stains that wont be removed, people invariably wanting to leave areas. But nothing had been proven. Now though, now there was proof.  Proof that the astral stones still existed, but were somehow being obfuscated in unknown ways. For a time scientists figured that they were either a myth or had somehow gone extinct, but her apprentice proved that they do in fact exist and proved that the old sigils do still work on them.

Actually, it seems that there was a bit of a trade off, as the sigils that Catarine were applying were dismal at best, barely in the shape of what was really meant to be performed. Yet, it seems that the new obfuscation techniques had possibly made these stones more susceptible to the sigils once they were applied. More would have to be done to confirm this, but first, she needed to get her Apprentice home.

As expected, once the process became easier, after having failed over twenty something times, she flew through the last eight like they were nothing. Each time she drew the sigil, and applied her own healing energy to initiate the cleansing process, Madame Bloom was right there to collect the stones and inspect the process. Each time, the strokes became less and less fluid, as she was clearly nearing her end. But she still pushed through, not stopping until no stone was left unpulled and cleansed.

With each cleansing, Madame Bloom felt the weight that had been building on her chest slowly released. Then finally dissolved entirely as the last stone was cleansed. This time, Catarine just tossed the stone down from the roof she was standing on, which Madame Bloom caught, inspected and then placed in a second crate. The first crate used had been broken by the crystallizing spirit stone that had emerged when a half dozen of the blight bearing stones burst open at once and tried to create a mini rift on the spot. Fortunately, her apprentice had acted in time to stop it all, or else Madame Bloom would have had to find a way to fight past the pain and do something drastic.

There is a point when a Sensitive is needed for rift fights, but that point only becomes necessary once the rift is fully formed. Then a sensitive can lead the way to the heart and help close the rift from the inside. An effect that feels like you are having your teeth constantly cleaned and scraped against every step of the way, and one that Anastasia would prefer to avoid at all costs at her age and current abilities.

Seeing that her apprentice was looking around like a gopher caused a moment of pause, before Madame Bloom realized that her apprentice was looking around for more of the stones. Seeing that diligence caused even more pride to swell in her, as she could have easily just pretended to be done, but she made sure she was done. Only once Catarine was certain did she nod to herself, before heading down the ladder, Markan going down first to make sure she was safe and the ladder was secure on her decent. Seeing how even Markan had changed around her, showed that Markan had also taken a liking to her apprentice.

With only a few gestures, Markan grabbed the ladder and began folding it up, then proceeded to carry the ladder in one hand, and the jar of expensive pain in the other. Coming over he placed the jar of pain in the box of broken shadow stones and carried the box and ladder to the carriage.

Seeing Markan work, Anastasia nodded to herself knowing that she had chosen well.  Without a word everyone got into the carriage.

Markan went over to Prince Fiammata’s guards and gave the box of dead stones, making sure to pluck out the jar of expensive paint. Then stored everything on the carriage while Anastasia led a very tired Catarine to the car, where she scooted in and almost instantly collapsed in exhaustion. Within seconds she and Markan both entered the cabin as well, and the carriage started rolling. Seeing the exhausted state of her apprentice, Madame Bloom nodded to herself before coming to a conclusion on a possible reward. It wasn’t much, but it was the most she could offer at the moment, given everything that was still to come. Things that Catarine herself would have to participate in.

“You are free from all Bloom obligations until Wednesday,” Madame Bloom offered, giving her the most amount of rest she could offer. A small reprieve of really just a single full night, but that should speak volumes about how important Catarine was now becoming to Anastasia’s entire operation.

Somehow, before Anastasia even realized it, Catarine had become her last and best hope towards leaving the world in a better state than she first found it.

“Wednesday? Why Wednesday?” Catarine asked, apparently noting that there was some purpose to the madness of being told until Thursday. While she was not a sensitive, it was clear that her deductive reasoning skills were top notch.

“Because that is when the Trial is going to be held,” Anastasia offered.

“Trial? What Trial?”